


This is Blackmail!

by MarionThorne



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Blacksand - Freeform, M/M, fucking mansnoozie that name will never fail to send me into giggles, initial dubcon, kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 14:09:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarionThorne/pseuds/MarionThorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pitch Black begs the Sandman not to send him to sleep with those nightmares, and Sandy agrees... with a condition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Blackmail!

All Pitch wanted was just a little snack, a small morsel of fear to keep his frail state from collapsing and turning him back into a mere shade once more. The Guardians were lax after his defeat, believing him banished for a good century or more, which led to the perfect opportunity to snatch fear from a child without getting caught. It had gone on like this for nearly a month after the battle after Easter - Pitch would wait until nighttime and then feed on natural fears that would keep the Guardians' suspicions from getting too high (don't walk by that alleyway, there's a monster that'll eat you up).

Yet, all it had taken was a single slip up on his part to get him caught. It was but a single nightmare, a feeble one at that (you're going to fail that test, you forgot your lunch and your pants too), but he should have known that the Sandman would be able to detect the changes in his dream sands by now.

Pitch returned to his lair feeling marginally less abysmal than he had when he set out, and figured that perhaps he'd be able to keep himself awake long enough to regain enough strength within the next few days to disperse some of the nightmares that plagued him in his unrestful sleep. His reasonable meal left him feeling safe, and perhaps a bit foolishly lax himself. The last thing he expected to find in his personal chambers was a glowering Sandman, rolled whips in both hands.

He automatically took an offensive position, although he was currently too weak to summon a weapon. The Sandman's hands curled tighter around his whips, and he leveled Pitch with a steely glare before a series of shapes flitted above his head; it was in terse times such as these that Pitch was glad he'd had centuries to perfect the art of reading those pictographs.

When he spoke, it was with the same tone of silk covered in spider webs, but just taut enough to give away his unease with the situation. "Come now, it's not as if I've traumatized anyone! It was just a single nightmare, not even enough to hurt a fly."

The Sandman allowed his whips to unroll, indicative of how many fucks he did not give. A golden triangle with a hollowed out exclamation point appeared above his head. Had he any less dignity, which wasn't a lot at the moment, he would've snorted.

"Honestly, if I'm that much of a danger, I would've shown up on your radar by now. It's been a month I've been recuperating, and only now do you realize that I'm out again."

Sandy's upset face slipped for a moment. A month? Pitch Black had been out gaining power again since nearly immediately after his defeat, and no one had even noticed! This certainly would no do; he needed time to think of what to do with the Boogeyman, and in the meanwhile, he needed to make sure Pitch wouldn't go anywhere. A ball of golden sand materialized in his hand, and he readied to throw it before he noticed the the nightmares that had suddenly entered the room.

There were traditional night mares clamoring around the door, reluctant to enter, hungry citron colored eyes resting not on him, but on Pitch. Hands of shadow diluted with black sand snaked around the room, touching neither party but certainly desiring to. 

Pitch paid no attention to his mutinous creations, eyes glued to the Sandman and his golden ball of dreams. "Wait! Surely there is no need for that. Can't we just talk this out?" It was a thin request, and both of them knew it, but what Sandy wanted to know was why? Sleep wasn't something to inspire fear. Suddenly, a night mare nickered, and Pitch cast a nervous eye at it.

Ah. Had the nightmares continued their pseudo cannibalistic course over this span of time? That would explain quite a few things. Indeed, Pitch was weaker than he should be with a month of nourishment in his belly, so the Sandman had no doubt that he could subdue him...

And suddenly, a thought that, for the being of starlight, came unbidden into his mind that was just wicked enough to make him gape at himself, but tempting enough for him not to care. Unable to find a glyph to express his demands, he decided to use the human's silly written words instead.

_I'll watch you. Do what I say, and no sleep._

The Nightmare King was clearly displeased with the offer, but made no rebuttal. So terrorized was he by his own creations, he'd rather spend however long beneath the Sandman's whims than underneath their bruising hooves and claws. "Very well, Sandman. I am yours to command, for now, so long as you keep the terrors from me. But be warned, that I am not malleable and compliant like your little sands."

When the Boogeyman cast a warning sneer to Sandy, he had not expected to be returned with a mischievous grin.

_Fun._

*~-._+^:.-*~-._+^:.-*~-._+^:.-*~-._+^:.-*~-._+^:.-*~-._+^:.-*~-._+^:.-*~-._+^:.-*

Despite his nature, Pitch Black had quite a bit of patience. He merely sat on his bed and allowed Sandy to interestedly shuffle through his things; after all, it was not like he had a lot to hide down here. No embarrassing journals to be leafed through, no photos of family to be threatened with...

He growled and cursed a bit when the Sandman started putting sand stars on his wall, but it was nothing that couldn't be undone or tolerated.

However, now the Sandman had tired of rummaging through his things, and was currently sitting on his bed, intruding too far into his personal space, and staring at him with some form of unidentifiable intent. He raised a brow at the short man, who only a moment later looked down and started bouncing lightly on his bed. 

Sandman didn't like this bed. It was too hard, unsuitable for his purposes. His earlier rummaging had been nothing more than a stall for himself, to allow his nerves to steel (although, he did find out that apparently Pitch was quite fond of Lovecraft), and now that he was ready, he had more work to do. With a silent huff, he summoned dream sand to his hands, but looked up when he heard what was most definitely a yelp.

Before Pitch could open his mouth to ask what the ever loving fuck the Sandman thought he was doing, Sandy slammed his hands onto the bed and changed the hard, shadowed slab into a fluffy bed of down. Yes, this was much better.

Pitch was currently eyeing the Sandman skeptically. Though saying thoughts were racing through his head would be an overdone exaggeration, he was certainly befuddled. If anything about the man unnerved him, it was his complete unpredictability.

Sandy crooked a finger at him, and despite his trepidation, Pitch crawled forward until he nearly had the little man in his lap. Then, a pair of sand lips appeared above Sandy's head. He would deny that purple rose to his face and he stuttered if anyone ever asked. Surely he had read that wrong, the little puffball could never be so forward-

-and yet, Sandy raised a hand and tapped at his own lips with a coy grin.

Pitch steeled himself. His mind spoke over and over about how disgusting this was, how low he had come to kiss an enemy just to keep himself from being assaulted by his own element. Yet, he would not allow himself to remember the times, so consumed by solidarity was he, that he had fantasized of situations similar to this.

He could feel his face warming with each inch closer to Sandy's face he came, and he was certain that his cheeks were a rather unflattering shade of purple at the moment. When he was scant but centimeters away from plump lips, hands placed themselves on top of his and guided him to place them upon Sandy's lower back. When their lips met, Pitch felt as if he'd been placed in front of a warm hearth, protected and complete. 

He was overcome with a strong desire to slap himself. He couldn't like this, dammit! The two of them were total opposites, had been enemies for millennia, and thwarted each other's work at every turn. The kiss deepened, as did Pitch's internal fight to the point that he didn't notice the hands creeping down the back of his body until they grabbed a nice double handful of his rump.

Pitch jumped away from the exchange with a startled curse. "What kind of game do you think you're playing, Sandman? If you think for a minute that I'm going to-"

He was cut off with an 'x' of sand over his mouth that dissolved once Pitch's attention was on Sandy again. His golden head nodded towards the direction of the doorway, where the night mares still stood, staring intently and just waiting for a chance to feed. He gulped and once more faced the dream weaver. His face twisted into one of upset and defeat before the Sandman again coaxed him back into an embrace. Well, he may not have a choice but to obey the little golden annoyance, but he certainly wouldn't make it easy on him.

Though this time he didn't move away when Sandy got handsy again, he nipped at the other's lip, drawing a molten drop of golden blood. He was certain Sandy would've hissed had he the ability. The other broke their kiss and glared up at him. Pitch glared back and sneered, certain that he'd discouraged the the little mite. Though he really should've expected it by now, instead, the little man allowed an impish grin to spread across his face before hopping at the other man.

Pitch landed on his back with an 'Oof!', breath knocked out of him by the weight of the Sandman. He scowled at the other and attempted to get up again, only to get pushed back down. Okay, stay down. Damn domineering dream weaver. He watched with trepidation as the Sandman crawled down his body, dragging his robe open and dispelling the shadows beneath as he went. Soon, he was left nearly bare but for the robe hanging on only by his shoulders. He shivered, partly with chill, but mostly due to the sense of being left bare for the Sandman's perusal. It wasn't a sensation he enjoyed.

Yet, the Sandman obviously enjoyed it quite a bit if the way his sand created clothes disappeared to reveal his bare and aroused form. Pitch couldn't keep himself from just a peek, out of mere curiosity he'd tell himself. Sandy was just as large as he expected, although his short form offered him a sense of plumpness that made Pitch hot in all the ways he would deny later. His skin was golden and soft, like the skin of a hairless peach, ready for biting. It was simultaneously endearing and arousing, and this time Pitch could not deny it, as his body offered proof of his arousal in the purple flush spreading across his skin and the hardening of his member.

Once this was taken notice of by the Sandman, a slightly orange tongue darted out to wet his lips. He'd thought he'd have to use a bit more physical persuasion before he got the Pitch to this state, but he was far from displeased. To show how happy he was with this development, he settled himself down between Pitch's legs and, before the other could protest, licked a long line from just above the gray skin at the pubis to just below the taller man's pectorals. Pitch managed to withold the rush of breath that wanted to escape from between his teeth, but his muscles still tensed and jumped as they were pressed by that hot, wet appendage. 

Things continued on in this manner for what seemed like hours. Sandy teased and prodded and fulfilled with his tongue until Pitch was a needy mess beneath him, just as he'd desired for so long. He laved over lavender tinted nipples until they became pebbles under his tongue, left Pitch's neck covered in hickeys and bite marks, and kissed him until both pairs of lips were bruised. It seemed that practicing abstinence for so long left him quite ravenous when presented with the object of his affections. Thankfully, he wouldn't have to wait for long.

Pitch was simultaneously putty and polyurethane-more than willing, yet resistant at the same time. Sandy was pleased with the way that Pitch gave a rebellious nip to his fingers before allowing them into his mouth, and then doing the most obscene of things to them just to drive Sandy wild. He pulled his fingers out of the other's mouth before he could let himself get too hot and set himself back to his original purpose: finally getting this show on the road. He reached backwards to rub the slicked digits against his pucker before sliding one in slowly. He worked with the one first, gasping at the forgotten sensation, and kept his eyes focused on Pitch as he slid in the next one. Slowly, he allowed his fingers to pick up a rhythm that would keep him comfortable before beginning to occassionally scissor himself open. 

Pitch never took his eyes from the Sandman's the entire time. It was a mesmerizing sight, beautiful and arousing in its carnality. He allowed his hands to come to rest on both of Sandy's hips, tracing useless patterns and occassionally drifting to tease but not touch. Whenever he did that, Sandy's eyes would flutter nearly closed for a moment, and it made Pitch just want to flip them over and ravish him.

However, his train of thought was totally wrecked when he noticed Sandy begin moving his way down his body before resting the cleft of his bum against Pitch's hardened member. The two of them shared a smouldering look before Sandy rose up to take Pitch into his body, oh so slowly, but still painfully. Intercourse was a thing he hadn't taken part of in decades, and his face pulled into a grimace. Once fully seated, he stayed that way, eyelids drooping with a mixture of arousal and pain, body slightly quaking. Pitch was in no more a coherent state than Sandy, but was having a far harder time keeping himself from bucking into that tight heat. He bit his lip hard enough to draw black blood, but even then he couldn't keep his noises of pleasure quiet enough to escape Sandy's notice. Sandy perked up at that, but then damned his small stature for not allowing him to reach up and swallow Pitch's moans in a kiss.

Sandy rose up, and upon finding the pain bearable, and much more so due to Pitch's gasp, began a steady rhythm that had him shaking again in no time. The pleasure was burning low in his loins, just enough to please him and make him crave more at the same time. However, the feeling of Pitch inside of him was absolutely delectable, a pulsing heat that set his nerve endings ablaze. He grabbed one of Pitch's hands and gave him his most pleading look, unable to bring his sand into words before it fell into twitchy particles with each thrust. 

Then, Pitch sat up and flipped Sandy over so that those gangly limbs sprawled above him. Sandy glared at him and was about to take charge again when Pitch sported a nasty grin before pushing back in suddenly. It was as if different parts of Sandy's body had suddenly become connected; his toes curled into the soles of his feet, his fingers clenched into fists, and he threw his head back against the soft bed, mouth wide open in a silent scream of pleasure. He had felt Pitch brush that spot deep within him, almost but not quite hitting it, and oh-!

Pitch chuckled darkly, finally allowing himself access to the treasure that had been denied to him for what seemed like ages. His long fingers skimmed over the parts of the body that he knew would bring the little man no closer to orgasm while setting a brutal pace that, had he a headboard, he was certain it would have cracked the wall by now. The sight of Sandy writhing beneath him, arching into his touches with a bright orange flush all down his body, was like the finest of ambrosias to Pitch, nearly as satisfying as a night terror. Small hands wrapped around his wrists, and Sandy raised himself to meet Pitch at just the right moment to have them both shuddering with delight. 

Pitch could have continued on all night, more than content to spend his time unraveling that hard wound control of the Sandman's, but he felt a coiling in his loins that would not be ignored. It grew and burned hotly in his body, and he leaned down to hide his increasing cries of pleasure in Sandy's neck. It was an awkward anle, but it only served to drive his cock directly at Sandy's prostate, which had the other tensing and clawing at him as if he were the man's only lifeline. He allowed one hand down, teasing at the area just above the other's hard cock, and only once his own release was nigh did he give Sandy the swift pumping he needed. It was as if there was a vice of pure heat around him, and then he too was surrounded by flashes of bright pleasure that left him helpless in their wake. 

*~-._+^:.-*~-._+^:.-*~-._+^:.-*~-._+^:.-*~-._+^:.-*~-._+^:.-*~-._+^:.-*~-._+^:.-*

As the two of them lay post-coitus, Pitch decides that a barrier is currently not needed when he feels small fingers begin to comb through his hair, calming and reassuring with their warmth. He can't bring himself to open his eyes, but he's certain that Sandy has a content grin on his face, likely smiling just enough to allow his endearing tooth gap to show. The smaller man is solid safety to his side, curled up against his chest and with an arm wrapped around his head to thread through his hair.

So amicable is he that he doesn't notice the dream sand that has been sprinkled on his face, and when he does, he cannot bring himself to do anything than mumble out an insult ("Cheater...").

It is the first night in a month that he has slept soundly, assured that his little guardian dream weaver will keep the nightmares away.

**Author's Note:**

> I have never written these two before, and it shows. (╯_╰) SFDJowie I'm so embarrassed that this is so shitty, but I really like blackmail and I wanted to take a shot at writing these two. And plus the requester called for dub/noncon with Pitch liking it in the end, but I kinda fucked that one up too. U 3U;


End file.
